Cellar Life
by klexia
Summary: Three years after the climax. Short story set in an alternate universe
1. Beyond the Lake

"Honey, I'm home," Erik called out when he entered. He closed the portcullis and took off the cape and hat, hanging them up next to the lasso.  
  
"Welcome back," smiled Christine. She hurried from the adjacent room, kissed Erik and received the bag he brought. Christine peeked inside the bag. "Are you tired?"  
  
"A bit." He sat down at the organ, and Christine hurried away into another room that served as a kitchen.  
  
"The food will be ready in a moment," she announced from behind the wall.

  
  
The fire crackled happily as she roasted the meat he brought. The cellar filled with tasty smell, and Erik's sweet music.  
  
As promised, soon she walked into their 'living room,' carrying their dinner. Quickly, she set the table, and invited Erik to eat.  
  
"You should really do something about the dripping," Christine reminded her husband when they were both seated. "You said you'd take a look at it a week ago." 

"Ah, yes," he replied absent-mindedly and started consuming the food. "I'll look at it tomorrow, first thing."

"Thank you," she said with a sly smile. "I'll be sure to remind you."

The Phantom cringed slightly, but didn't reply. He just continued chewing his food.

"How was your day," Christine asked.

"Not bad... I dropped another chandelier. This time it landed within inches of the centre of the auditorium, and clinked quite spectacularly. I think that I'm getting better with all the practice."

"I think you are," his wife smirked. "I heard it all the way down here."

  
  
Christine put the empty dishes in the sink and returned to him, as Erik continued telling her of the day's work. She came from behind and massaged his shoulders.  
  
"The manager refused to fire his tone-deaf nephew, so I had to kill him." 

"Oh, no," she shook her head. "Does this make this the third manager this month? Soon people are going to be reluctant to run the opera."

"I meant the nephew. I'll give the manager another chance – he's relatively new after all. He'll need time to adjust to the way things are."

"Oh," she nodded, relieved. "I see. Anything else?"

"Well, the meat disappeared from the buffet," he replied and turned around to face her.  
  
"Now, that's an unfortunate occurrence," she laughed, and sneaked a glance at the dirty dishes. 

Her fingers caressed his neck, then his forehead. Tenderly, she took off his mask and looked into his eyes. "Three years, and still, every day is like the first," she breathed as he put his arms around her. She hugged him back.  
  
"Sing, sing for me," Erik said and sat back at the organ. He began playing the introduction.

Soon the dark cavern was once again filled with music. 


	2. And that night there was music in my min...

Unfortunately, the young couple's music exercise was badly timed. Less than a minute after they started, the cellar was disturbed with another powerful sound. The orchestra at the opera house started playing the overture.  
  
Christine stopped singing in mid-sentence. Eric at first stubbornly continued playing, but started making mistakes.

"Keep it down!" the Phantom shouted to the orchestra.

"They can't hear you, you know," Christine reminded.  
  
"I know," he said, defeated. After a second's thought, he stood up and in a dry furious movement got his cape and mask.

"Wait, where are you going," the ex-singer asked.

"I'll show them how to disturb THE PHANTOM," he yelled and moved towards the portcullis. Christine put her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"What are you going to do," she asked. "They don't even have a chandelier right now!"

"Yes..." he said thoughtfully and turned around. "They probably didn't get a chance to buy another one yet... I'll go tomorrow..."

He put away the coat and the mask and lowered himself back into his seat. The opera was just getting into full swing. The Phantom threatened the ceiling with his fist.

"So it is to be war between us! WAR UPON YOU ALL!"

He was about to do his long-rehearsed laughter, but one look at his wife made him reconsider.  
  
Instead, he murmured, "Let's just go to sleep."

I looked around the desk, trying to find something to chew on. It was one of the habits I've gotten into – if I'm running out of ideas, I chew on something inedible. When I'm writing, I chew on a pen. When I'm drawing, I chew on a pencil. Now that I'm typing, what can I chew on?  
  
The wire looked pretty appealing...

I quickly pushed the though out of my head for fear of electrocution.

Christine woke up earlier than her husband. She attended to some chores and cooked breakfast. She expected the smell of omelet to gently wake Eric.  
  
But what woke him up was the morning rehearsal from above. So when he got out of bed, the offence from the day before was again fresh in his mind.

"How are we going to raise children when they're always making noise?!" he complained.

The next morning the manager found another note from the Phantom. In addition to his usual demands, now there were to be no plays or rehearsals before 6:00 AM or after 8:00 PM."Why do I feel like this is a failed chapter," I asked myself, munching on the remains of the computer.

* * *

Author's note: "Cellar Life" was supposed to be a one-shot. This chapter was entirely the result of the reviews. Thus, the above is what you get when the will to write comes before an actual idea. Hopefully nobody is too disappointed.  
  
Again, I'm very grateful to everyone who reviewed. If it weren't for you, this 'lamentable mess' wouldn't have been written.


End file.
